Stranger by touch
sketching and imagining who my hands might be talking to
through glass and code we typed reply’s
Wondering who it could be
tall, dark, white or fair he may be
am still sketching the laughter and imagining the face
Who knows if my face runs in his imagination
confronting, harsh or rude am I?
A little bit if this
a bit of that
we both never know
we both never met
but in a small town we survive
early morning we arise
yet we never know
Brenda A. Juliet